~ A site for my creative writing endeavors, writing prompt responses, and experimentation.

Starbucks Sad and Strange

The view from the comfy chair at Starbucks is occasionally sad, sometimes strange, but always interesting. Upon entering this day we nod in silent recognition to the woman in the long down coat. Purple, or perhaps more fashionably lavender or even periwinkle, she wore the same coat no matter the weather. An older woman, we could count on seeing her every time we walked to our local Starbucks for lunch. A sort of sadness envelopes her, yet her expression isn’t gloomy. Nor does she smile, or talk, or engage with any customers.

I can’t help but recall an old song by Dan Fogelberg. Windows and Walls tells the story of an older woman, her husband long since dead and her married children living far away. Nobody every comes by any more and mostly she sits and stares at the windows and walls. But sometimes she takes herself outside:

Maybe she’ll go to the corner today
And pick up the new McCall’s
If just to escape for an hour
From her windows and walls

I picture this woman’s routine a version of the song. Walking whatever distance to camp for a while in the corner at Starbucks just to see people. Of course, her story may be vastly different from what I imagine, but to me her life seems sad.

On this particular day there was also the strange. At first I paid no attention to the table next to us. Two women seemingly in their 20s or 30s sat there chatting; perhaps friends meeting for a latte or mocha Frappuccino? But then the tarot cards came out. As one flipped over individual cards, the other became increasingly enrapt in their meaning. Or at least the meaning that the first woman – should I call her a medium? – was inventing with each turn of a card. Oddly enough, on this very day I had been researching a “spiritualist” who preyed on Mary Lincoln after the death of her son Willie in the Civil War White House. Charles Colchester was a noted spiritualist at the time, who not surprisingly was later run out of town for scamming his gullible clients.

So yes, I had to chuckle at the goings on next to me. I wanted to stand behind the tarot card reader with a big sign for the other woman to see: “It’s a Scam! Run!” Alas, I didn’t. Who am I to impart my views (and facts) on those who choose to believe.

Ah, then there was the interesting. A tall, classically pretty, blonde woman came in. But that wasn’t what caught my eye; instead I was immediately drawn to her feet and the fluorescent green flipflops. The footwear seemed as cheaply made as they were brilliantly bright. Only after several minutes did I realize they were the temporary fold-out ones given out by massage parlors for use on the premises. Such a massage facility was next door to Starbucks, so my bewilderment seemed to have an easy remedy, although it was still odd to see someone wearing them out in public. Perhaps she was headed back for Round 2?

But that wasn’t the oddest part. While these flipflops were thin and flat (as flipflops are wont to be), the woman was walking on her toes. Only the balls of her feet were touching the surface. My guess (or perhaps I should say my hypothesis, after all, I am a scientist) is she so routinely wears high heels that she feels uncomfortable walking on flat feet. I’ve seen other women who walk this way in flat shoes, recently even while she was wearing more substantial sneakers. And then today I saw a waiter doing the same, which really made me start to wonder if there was a new fashion trend I had somehow missed (like all the others).

But our allotted time in Starbucks this day was running out and it was time to start our hike back home. The round trip is roughly 2.5 miles so we mostly go to Starbucks for the exercise and change of scenery, but I have to admit that people watching has become a reason in itself to go.

Actually, I taught myself to read Tarot for the story and thought I never became an advocate, I did have some interesting results. My character, of course, is magically enhanced. If you have time, I have a mini-anthology of four precursor stories called King of Swords you might find interesting (free on smashwords).

I know some women wear heels so often, their Achilles tendon permanently shortens so wearing flats is physically painful. And sometimes they won’t let you change back into your regular shoes after getting your nails done and you just haven’t had a chance to get your shoes back on. My aunt has size 12 feet, so they’re way to short so it drives her crazy when they make her leave wearing those flip flops that aren’t long enough.

Just found this in my “spam” folder, not sure why. Maybe the “Tarot” reference. 🙂 So sorry for the delay in acknowledging it. Any new comments should be automatically posted now. I hope.

In my mind, tarot is like horoscopes; they have no basis in reality but can be great entertainment for anyone willing. Probably fits well in fiction, though.

I’m learning a lot about the intricacies of massage/toenail painting places that I didn’t know before I wrote the post above. It just seemed so out of place, especially since it wasn’t a particular warm day. But now it makes much more sense that I’ve been let in on the secret of getting your nails done.

Seems I’m destined to delve into the unknown this year. I just finished reading a book of essays by a 30-year-old Canadian/Texan of Philippine heritage in which she opines on fraternity rapes, feminism, and what drives millennials. I’ve read a few things lately from an African-American perspective, and also have on my radar to read from Latinx, Native American, and foreign born immigrant perspectives. Hey, if I can learn about muscle morphing due to high heel wearing and toenail polishing, I can learn about what non-white non-male non-Catholic-raised people have had to go through while I was blissfully ignorant.

As an ‘old lady’ I like your perception or read of people you see. One never knows what type of world another person lives in and how they function differently than ou we may: the on-lookers. Yes, do visit McDonald’s and maybe a tea house or other sit and sip business.

Old is such a relative term, I tell myself often these days. I do try to observe people, or more accurately, I’ve always observed people and can’t find a good reason to stop. Usually I concoct a scenario in my head of what is going on in their lives, which almost inevitably I’ll never know is true or not. On one occasion we had a good laugh because I was describing my rather grandiose scenario of someone sitting alone in a restaurant, only to have him suddenly joined by a family that totally negated my entire supposed scenario. So now I don’t assume I’m right, or even close, when I lay claim to know their lives just from a few minutes of observation.

I agree, David. Old IS a relative term yet, from where I sit, at nearly 75 years or 3 quarters of a century, I am pleased and fortunate to be “old”! Smiling broadly. I also enjoy observing behaviors and how different people go about their day in public spaces. I mostly encounter people on their way to work or to classes while I walk my Hounds and others walking their animals during the A.M. rush hours. Some people become quite familiar and begin to speak briefly and sojourn before continuing on.

Haven’t been into a Starbuck’s in awhile. We have a local coffee shop where I know most of the regulars. Recently acquired by another local outfit, it’s new name is “Drink Coffee, Do Stuff”. Mostly, however, I just drink coffee there.

My flying-solo-with-nothing-in-particular-to-do hangout is the local college library… which also has coffee. I like the atmosphere there better — bright, younger crowd, and easier to conduct research. That’s where I am right now!

I wish there was a local non-corporate coffee shop around here, but like independent bookstores, they seem a rarity in these parts. There is one in my home town in New England that I finally tried out on my last visit, although it seemed like a more cramped version of Starbucks without the ability to make a passable mocha Frappuccino. But for the locals, it was heaven.

The local college library requires a drive and since I’m not really a coffee drinker much of the idea is for the walk and the people watching (something the writer’s magazines tell you to do for inspiration and research) rather than drinking coffee. There is a Barnes and Noble store just slightly closer than the Starbucks, and they have their own licensed “Starbucks” inside, so sometimes I go there for the same reasons, plus to get new ideas for books to read. They too sometimes have interesting people, although they also have one annoyingly hyperattentive employee I wrote about in a previous post.

Such times we live in. I love Starbucks, and there was a time a few years ago in which I went often. Shoes? Well, I am more interested in what the entire package tells me – hair – well kept or not – style- makeup – little, none or a lot – if well done, fine. If not, weird. Sometimes, I wear my slippers to stores.

This Starbucks gets a good business from an office building standing right behind it, plus a few regulars. Counting the mini-Starbucks within the grocery and bookstores, there are at least six Starbucks within walking distance (<3 miles roundtrip) from my house. Some offer better entertainment and service than others.

I do usually read the entire package, but in this case the fluorescent green caught my eye. I've seen people in shorts and t-shirts, others in sandals/flipflops, and occasionally pajamas, all in winter. Once or twice there were women dressed to the nines early on Sunday morning accompanied by much older men dressed in jeans, who I'm sure were simply fathers stopping in for a latte before dropping their fashionably faithful daughters off at church. Or something.

All of this makes me wonder if 1) others people-watch me, and if so, 2) what scenarios do they come up with about me. I take solace in the very high probability that no one cares what I do with my life.

Wow… I’m back here after an evening at a nearby hotel/gambling casino where my friend adjourned herself to play some poker after dinner. I’m not particularly interested in gambling (too much college statistics), so I ended up doing a lot of watching. The slot machines were just too tragic… so I migrated to the proximity of some tables adjacent to the entrance of a “high-stakes” area (not in the high-stakes area… just the wanna-be’s). You ever need inspiration for a collection of “characters”, I highly recommend a large casino floor.

I’m not big on gambling either (there is a reason the house usually wins). But it does sound like a good place to do some people watching. I just found out that there is a casino just outside the DC line and I’ve been wanting to check out the resort area there.

Well, since you asked for a Starbucks story, I have a whole book full of them. It is called Tripio and is my historical fiction novel set at Starbucks in Chicago in 1992. The old woman is your post was there in 1992 in manner of speaking, plus Kenny, the guy in the Broker
and host of other characters….Thanks for the post!